


pianissimo and a very, very large room

by vellich0rs



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vellich0rs/pseuds/vellich0rs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>one-shot of cullen and my f!amell, blair. (thank u joanie for the prompt.) cullen might be slightly ooc but i really don't care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pianissimo and a very, very large room

The Circle of Magi was a large building, indeed. The stone walls seemed to magnify this, creating a slightly ironic, caged-in feeling - it was as if the ceiling was about to cave in at any moment.

Walking to and from lessons always seemed like a chore to Blair, especially at the end of the day. Shoes on concrete sometimes made for very sore feet, even if one was not walking anywhere but up flights of stairs. Still, it was tiring, and as the days grew numbered, the skin on her feet would get more rough - more calloused. As did her fingers - the elements wore away at her skin, creating scars and marks, and her fingers were hard from picking her way through herbs.

But it was the price she paid for being such a studious pupil.

 

_It's the price you pay for being a mage, you mean._

 

She rolled her eyes at her own guarded, slightly-sarcastic-but-still-self-hating humour. 

_She hated what she was. What she was going to become._ Blair longed for freedom, to spread her wings wide and fly, but she knew that the tower would always be her home, whether she liked it or not. She was stuck here for life, and the idea of it brought on an unneeded attitude of both self-hate and quiet contemplation.

As she walked down the stairs to the second floor, her footsteps echoing behind her, she caught sight of the familiar glinting of armour. The templars stood tall and proud at their posts whenever she saw them, their breast plates adorned with the vibrant red symbol of the chantry. Blair scoffed as she crossed paths with the templar that was stationed outside of the library, and as she gathered her books into her chest, entered a very large, very heavily-decorated room. It smelt strongly of dust, shelves and cabinets lined with various books of differing sizes. The walls were covered in old paintings, both elegant and disturbing, and the desk at the front of the room was in disarray - papers and open books, vials of potions and various ingredients littered it. The floor was partially covered by a gaudy green rug, and in the centre of the room was placed a very large, very old grand piano. 

Blair shut the door behind her, slight adoration in her eyes. Ever since she was younger, she had a fascination with music - the tone, the sound; everything about it caught her attention and it was her only way of completely immersing herself in a different world. As she sat down on the bench, she breathed in the familiar smell of wood, and her calloused hands met the ivory keys. She breathed in, almost as if the steady herself, and began playing a small tune. It was not a lilting tune, in the slightest - it was soft, slow, and intricate. Chords were woven into the melody intelligently, and the tune grew stronger as time went by. 

Time passed by quickly and without warning, and by the time she noticed him, the scowl on his face from noise complaints had softened into one of admiration. 

"I... Miss?" Blair jumped and with it, pressed a handful of keys that created a less pleasant sound. She swivelled in his direction, and after a moment, felt her cheeks getting warm. 

"Cullen, I... I didn't- how long have you been standing there for?" Blair pushed her hair away from her face, and, with embarrassment at the back of her throat, placed her cold hands to her face. 

Cullen smiled slightly, armour clinking as he drew himself closer, and nods his head towards the piano. "You're very talented. How long have you been playing the piano for?" 

Blair bit her fingernail, and the sound seemed incredibly loud - too much so, in fact. Her eyes darted nervously, and she chastised herself for becoming so flustered, in the presence of a templar, of all things. "I um.. I've been playing for as long as I remember." She looked down, eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and chuckled under her breath. "It's the only thing that keeps me sane in this blighted tower." She bit her lip and glanced at Cullen's face - combined with high cheekbones and bowed lips, he had the perfect amount of softness to his manly bone structure. She chastised herself again, the pit of her stomach squirming, palms sweating.  _Since when did she think it was a good idea to become so hopelessly infatuated with a templar?_

Cullen cleared his throat, interrupting Blair's inner monologue. "I-I'm sorry, Blair, but I'm going to have to ask you to stop playing. It's past hours and I've been getting some... noise complaints." 

She glanced at the wall clock. The numbers didn't lie - it was well past hours. Blair almost felt bad. 

Almost. 

"Alright." She stood up and dusted off her robes (since when did they become dusty?), gathered her books to her chest. "Thank you, Cullen. I will take my leave now." She smiled at him nervously, skirting around his figure, and, quickening her pace, darted out of the room with her footsteps muffled by the same Maker-awful green rug that she had grew to despise. 

As she retired to her quarters downstairs on the first floor, covers pushed up to her nose, she smiled. 

_He said I was talented._

 

From that moment onwards, Blair would always find Cullen nearby when she played her piano.

She'd like to think it was because he was listening. 


End file.
